


Escape

by ambiguously



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Abuse, Finn Needs A Hug (Star Wars), Loss of Virginity, M/M, Memory Loss, Painful Sex, Rapist Believes Relationship Is Romantic, Sex, Tricky Treat, Unhappy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-04 22:09:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21204869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ambiguously/pseuds/ambiguously
Summary: FN-2187 attempts to defect from the First Order. He always fails.





	Escape

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lucymonster](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucymonster/gifts).

"FN-2187 attempted to escape again."

There's a resigned sigh somewhere out of his vision. "Understood. Thank you for retrieving him."

FN-2187 is too groggy to stand on his own. He was beaten within an inch of his life and brought back here. Somewhere in the murk of his memory, the word "again" rises like a foul bubble, popping with a disturbing reek at the surface of his mind. He doesn't remember trying to escape before.

"Bring him for conditioning," says the voice. It's Captain Phasma.

Arms grab him roughly, dragging him through corridors he can barely see through his dented helmet. Conditioning. He's going to be mind-wiped. The word keeps haunting him: again.

Suddenly he has the strength to struggle. He'll lose the piece of himself he found, the piece that makes him more than a cog in the First Order's machine. He breaks one arm free, goes to deck the stormtrooper holding the other. A stun blast strikes him.

Phasma says, "We'll need to use a higher setting this time."

He hears nothing else.

* * *

His jaw hurts. He tried to escape this morning and didn't even make it to the landing bay before the alarm sounded. It's like they're watching him. Someone must have punched him after he was knocked out.

He turns his head. His helmet blocks much of his view, replacing eyesight with distracting readouts, but he can see his hands have been bound. Suddenly his helmet is pulled away from his head, and the sweat on his brow chills him. One of the medical droids rolls close, and extends a probe towards his face. His eyes follow it until they cross. It touches him just above the bridge of his nose, and his world fills with pain.

* * *

FN-2187 is a good soldier. He follows commands, practices harder than anyone else he knows, and believes in the cause with all his heart. He wants to believe. A part of him is separate from the drills and the work and the omnipresent culture of the First Order, and that part sees stars outside the viewports and dreams of flying away to them.

He gets his chance after they seize a pirate vessel that came too close to their territory. All he has to do is grab one of the pirates from the cell prior to her execution, and they can get out of here.

His plan, barely concocted, falls apart within minutes. They're both grabbed before they can reach the docking bay. His new friend and co-conspirator is shot as he watches, helpless, before he's dragged back towards Medical where the conditioning droids wait.

* * *

"You've certainly caused us some trouble," says a voice from behind his head. It's not his C.O. or a droid. It's someone whose voice he recognizes, but his arm was broken as he was captured, and FN-2187's mind is hazy in bright pain throbbing in time with his wrist. He's bound at an awkward angle putting pressure on the injury.

A hand touches his face. For an instant, FN-2187 lets himself enjoy the unexpectedly gentle touch. Spiking pain shoots between his temples as the worst thoughts he's ever contemplated flare across his inner vision, including thoughts he doesn't remember having. Hating Phasma. Hating the commanding officer before her. Wanting more from his life than a white helmet and a blaster rifle. Fear, so much fear. FN-2187 screams.

"Dull," says the voice, and the hands drops away. The pain fades slowly. "I was hoping to discover the reason you keep running away."

It's Kylo Ren. Supreme Leader Snoke's enforcer and head torturer. The monster of the stormtroopers, subject of the warnings they give one another in the barracks. FN-2187 bites back a frightened yelp.

"Leave us," says Ren. Others have been in the room. Now FN-2187 hears them leave, boots marching away, the hum of a retreating droid. They're alone. Ren is going to torture him for daring to escape, and if FN-2187 is very lucky, he's going to kill him after.

Something settles next to his ear. Ren's vocoder says next to his ear, "You're frightened. You don't need to be. I've sent them away. You're safe now."

FN-2187 feels a bark of laughter escape his throat. Safe? Here?

The gloved hand strokes his face with a contemplative absent-mindedness. "They're going to recondition you, of course. You won't remember a thing."

The gloved hand strokes his lips. To FN-2187's shock, one digit pushes between them. He's tempted to bite down, and he knows he'll be killed very slowly if he does. He fights back the growing panic as Ren slides his finger in and out of FN-2187's mouth.

"You'll be a blank slate," Ren says, and he pulls away his hand. There's a soft sound behind his head, and a familiar soft click. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Ren move, and he catches a glimpse of him: human, dark-haired, face curiously smooth and almost handsome. FN-2187 takes this in with one thought, then all thought is shoved out of his mind as a strong hand clamps over his eyes and another hand holds his jaw in place. He's kissed, hard. Kylo Ren is kissing him, and it's bad, all teeth and demanding tongue. FN-2187 has never taken a lover. His squad mates climb into one another's bunks at night while he acts like he can't hear what they're doing, but he's never gone that far with anyone. He's never been kissed, and he never dreamed of kissing the Supreme Leader's head interrogator.

Ren pulls back, his head cocking to an angle as though examining FN-2187's face. His own breath hitches in his chest, and FN-2187 notices that his lips are flushed and red.

"Interesting."

Ren turns away, and FN-2187 hears him don his mask again. He goes to the door panel, opening it. "I'm finished for the time being. Recondition him."

The droid wheels back into the room. FN-2187's mouth is still tingling as the probe touches his face just above his nose.

* * *

He can't stay here any longer, he tells himself, and for the first time, he makes a break for it, reaching the landing bay before he falls to a stun blast from another stormtrooper. Dizzy, he's dragged through the corridors. The brig, he thinks, but no, he's being taken to a medical suite. They're going to brainscrape him. Full mental wipe. It's the worst possible ending to an ill-advised escape attempt, he thinks.

He's wrong. A dark-robes figure waits at the door. "Bring him inside and leave us. I will interrogate him."

"Yes, sir," says one of the 'troopers holding him. FN-2187's feet scrape among the deck but he can't stop himself from being pulled into the room and strapped down on the exam table. His own helmet is yanked off his head and dropped to a table along one wall. The door shuts, and he's alone with Kylo Ren, the Supreme Leader's head interrogator and chief torturer. FN-2187 is in so much more trouble than he ever dreamed.

Ren steps closer, his black helmet unreadable. "Are you comfortable?"

He doesn't know how to answer that. He doesn't know what's going on. "I'm sorry for trying to escape. I won't do it again."

"I understand. You just want to be good. Useful." To FN-2187's great discomfort, one black glove rests against his cheek, the thumb idly stroking him. "This doesn't have to be unpleasant. Cooperate with our inquiries, and you could be," he drew his fingers under FN-2187's chin, "rewarded." One gloved finger pokes at his lips. FN-2187 clamps his mouth shut tight.

He's heard horror stories of Ren's torture techniques. This one didn't make the rounds among the other stormtroopers. Delicacy to inspire imagination, and let the brain itself provide the torture? He wasn't going to play along.

Somewhere, somehow, from deep inside himself, FN-2187 says, "You're just some sick freak in another mask. You're not scary." He can't believe his own words, and he can't pull them back.

Ren pulls back, his whole body in a pose of barely-restrained shock and anger. After a long moment, he says, "I would be frightened in your place. Memories gone. You won't know who you are, what you've done, or what's been done to you." A sharp smack hits him on the face. Another.

Ren pauses as if thinking. FN-2187 sees Ren come into view, feels hands on his belt. Stormtrooper armor isn't difficult to remove, although with his legs bound, it doesn't pull down far. Chill air touches his thighs. Terror grips him right before a slap harder than the rest stings his balls. He shouts in pain, and again as the slap is repeated twice more.

"You won't remember a thing I do to you."

Ren shoves a gloved finger into his ass, dry. FN-2187's testicles are still throbbing in agony but this is terrifying and worse as Ren moves his finger. FN-2187 knows what sex is. He's had to close his ears as his squad mates sneak into each other's bunks at night, lubing up with spit or with stolen, smelly oils from maintenance. He's never done it, only rubbed himself off imagining a lover sliding into him. Not like this. Not this ache, not this dead calm in Ren's helmet as his arm jerks harder and harder.

He starts to babble, hurt, terrified. "I won't do it again! I won't try to run! Please!"

He hears Ren make a gasp unlike anything he'd expect from Snoke's beast, and very much like gasps he's heard at night. Ren just came inside his own pants. The hand is withdrawn and wiped on FN-2187's thighs. His trousers are pulled up ungracefully and closed to hide what happened.

"Wait here," says Ren. As the medical droid rolls back into the room, FN-2187 trembles, waiting for his memories to be erased.

* * *

He makes it off the ship, out into the stars, not caring that he doesn't know how to fly.

The tractor beam does.

"Use the highest setting," Phasma orders as he is dragged into the room.

"Yes," says another voice, one FN-2187 almost recognizes. "But first, I will interrogate him." Ren. That's Kylo Ren, Supreme Leader Snoke's chief torturer. FN-2187 struggles to get free.

"Bind his hands and legs," Ren orders. "Then leave us."

* * *

FN-2187 wakes with groggy uncertainty. He remembers trying to escape. His team was deployed on a world they are cleansing in the name of the First Order, and he knew if he ran far enough away, he could go. He remembers the stun blast.

He doesn't know why he is in a clinically clean room back on the ship. He doesn't know why his armor has been stripped away. He doesn't know who the man standing in front of him is as his vision clears: he's human, pale, dark-haired, and his eyes are cold. He's wearing a black uniform that's nearly familiar, but his trousers are undone. He steps forward, one gloved hand grabbing onto FN-2187's bare ass.

The pain is intense, shooting up FN-2187's spine. He shakes his head, afraid, horrified. "Stop, please stop," but the man slides his cock all the way inside until his balls rest against FN-2187's skin. There's some lubrication, there must be some. He's dully aware that the man fucking him is sliding in and out with thick, sharp, deep strokes unimpeded by too much friction. This is what his squad mates do together in the middle of the night as he blocks his ears and pretends not to listen in. He's never done this himself, only dreamed about taking a lover as he rubbed himself with his own hand.

The man huffs as his pace picks up, holding FN-2187's legs in his hands to brace each thrust. It hurts like nothing has before in his life. The expression on the man's face is darkly amused before it twists into a parody of pleasure. Wet heat bursts into him before the man withdraws.

FN-2187 realizes he's whimpering.

"It's fine," says the man. "You won't remember anything in a few minutes."

That voice. Even devoid of the vocoder that typically disguises him, FN-2187 knows who this is.

* * *

He tries to steal an escape pod. As he's brought into the conditioning room, he hears the march of boots, and Supreme Leader Snoke's chief torturer says, "I will interrogate him first."

FN-2187 has heard the rumors. No wonder terror cuts into him now.

* * *

"Ren," Phasma says behind FN-2187's head. "You've interrogated him every time he tries to escape. Have you determined a means of keeping his conditioning in place?"

Every time? Bad enough Kylo Ren himself has come to view FN-2187's reconditioning, but he's watched before?

"It is hardly my concern that Hux's stormtrooper programming isn't as robust as he claims." Ren's helmet gleams in the overhead lights. "Now leave us."

The others leave the room, including the droid. Just out of sight, Ren removes his mask. He's human, dark-haired and unscarred, nothing like FN-2187 imagined.

"You keep trying to defect," Ren says conversationally, removing his gloves.

He reaches for FN-2187's belt. "No. No! I've never tried to escape before. I swear. I'll behave, sir."

Light glitters in Ren's eyes. "That's the first time you've called me 'sir.' I like it. Do it again."

"Yes, sir," says FN-2187, keeping the terror out of his voice as he feels his trousers pulled down. "Whatever you say, sir." Ren's hands are on his own trousers now. FN-2187 feels the terror clawing his throat closed. He knows what sex is. His squad mates climb into one another's bunks at night, and he pretends not to hear. He's never had a lover of his own. He's always wondered, but he never wanted anything like this.

Ren's finger smears something cold and greasy against the tight pucker of FN-2187's ass. "Please, sir, don't do this."

Ren says nothing before shoving inside him with a deep, stretching pain. He leans forward, jerking his hips. "You like it this way." He snaps his hips again. "If I touch you right now, you'll pop." The certainty in his tone is as terrifying as the rest. Ren's cock is deep inside him, and Ren is reading his mind so deeply he sees some mutual desire FN-2187 can't. He sounds so sure.

FN-2187 shakes his head, tries to shake off his attacker, but his motions only serve to drive Ren on.

"Like that," Ren says in a gasping voice. FN-2187 lets out a despairing moan that chokes into a gasp as Ren's bare hand wraps around FN-2187's dick and strokes him with a sure, knowing hand, speeding up just the way FN-2187 likes until he can't think, can't breathe. His body betrays him with a horrified spurt in the worst orgasm of his life. Ren grunts into his ear less than a minute later.

Then he kisses FN-2187 with clumsy lips.

"I think you get caught on purpose," Ren says. "I think you like it." The cool lips touch FN-2187's head. "I won't tell anyone. It's our secret."

FN-2187 closes his eyes, wincing as Ren pulls out. He's going to be brainscraped. He's going to forget all of this. Please let him forget all of this.

* * *

"Welcome back, traitor," says a faceless stormtrooper he doesn't know. The 'trooper punches Finn in the gut so hard his eyes gray out.

"Bring him," someone orders. He's already been beaten. There will be a public execution to follow, no doubt. He won't be afraid. He's chosen to give his life over to the Resistance. Getting captured wasn't part of the plan, but now that he's here, he's going to be brave.

Instead of taking him to a gathering room for everyone to watch his brains get blown out, he's dragged to a medical suite. A different horror grips him as he realizes he's being taken to reconditioning. "No, you can't."

"Special orders from Supreme Leader Ren," says one of his guards. "You've caused us no end of trouble. He's looking forward to interrogating you personally."

Yeah, I'll bet, thought Finn. "Look, it doesn't have to be like this. I got away. You can come with me. Join the Resistance. We can live in freedom together."

He gets a cuff on the head for his trouble. He isn't really feeling the recruitment speech right now anyway. There's a fear growing inside him that he can't explain. Of course he's nervous about coming face to face with Ren again, but there's something else crawling inside his guts and turning them to water.

They pull Finn into the room and strap his arms and legs down. He isn't given long to stew before the door slides open and Ren enters the room.

"Leave us." Finn doesn't watch them go. His eyes are drawn in by Ren's cold gaze. He tightens his jaw as Ren steps closer and stretches out his hand, reaching for Finn's face. He's seen this before, and he knows what his friends have gone through. His mind is going to be probed. He's going to scream in mental agony, and after, they will recondition him, stripping away every memory he's built since the day he first escaped.

He doesn't want to forget. He struggles against his bonds. They hold tight.

The gloved hand is soft against Finn's cheek, almost tender.

"We have lost time to make up for," Ren says. "And after we do, you won't remember a thing."


End file.
